Chapter 255: Tampered
[The former Chapter has been fixed. Read em first]
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The morning sun filtered gently through the room, its golden rays dancing across the polished floor and filling the space with a serene radiance. Within this tranquil room, a boy with a strikingly handsome face and hair of deep purple slept peacefully, his breathing steady and untroubled, as though nothing else in the world mattered at that moment. The air around him seemed still, as if the world itself conspired to preserve the tranquility of his slumber.
Soon, the boy’s eyelids fluttered open, revealing a pair of mesmerizing purple eyes that seemed to glimmer faintly under the morning light. With a lazy yawn, Asher rose from his bed and shifted into a seated position, his disheveled hair falling slightly over his face. For a brief moment, he sat motionless, caught between the drowsiness of dreams and the call of wakefulness.
Then, without warning, he fell backward into his bed again, stretching languidly with a faint groan, as though savoring the last remnants of sleep before facing the day ahead. His eyes still held the groggy haze of slumber, but with a deep breath, he pushed himself upright once more, finally forcing his body to move.
Dragging himself into the bathroom, Asher turned on the tap and let the cold water cascade down his body, washing away the remnants of fatigue clinging to him. The chill jolted his senses awake, sharpening his awareness. Within minutes, he was done and stepping out, the faint mist from the shower fading behind him.
Before long, he placed an order for breakfast, and as usual, it arrived swiftly. He ate in silence, each bite mechanical yet calm, and within minutes, the plates were cleared away. Settling into the couch, he turned his attention to the familiar voice that resided within him, the system.
"System, what’s the time?" Asher asked, his tone casual.
[Host, there is a clock hanging on the wall. Why don’t you try glancing at it?]
The system’s voice echoed within his mind, its mechanical tone laced with what could almost be interpreted as mild annoyance.
Asher didn’t reply. He simply sat there, unfazed and unmoving, his expression neutral. He had long grown accustomed to the system’s occasional sarcasm, its peculiar habit of sounding more human than machine. At times, it even seemed as though it had developed its own personality, irritable, witty, and exasperated, yet strangely loyal.
Sensing his silence, the system released what sounded like a mechanical sigh before speaking again.
[The time is 10:36 a.m., Host]
A faint smile tugged at Asher’s lips as he nodded and reclined further into the couch, stretching his arms over the backrest. The golden light now poured more freely through the windows, bathing the living room in a comforting glow.
Within the span of four days, the entirety of Star Academy had been rebuilt, its towers restored, its halls repaired, and its massive training arenas made functional once more. It wasn’t surprising; the academy’s resources and reputation were unparalleled. All facilities and equipment were already up and running, as though the recent destruction had been nothing more than a fleeting dream.
Asher sat quietly, his mind drifting back to the battle... to the cataclysmic event that had shaken the Separate Dimension just four days prior. His eyes lost focus as memories replayed in his mind, every movement, every dodge, every parry, every pulse of elemental energy, every calculated strike. It was as if he were replaying the entire battle in his head, analyzing every detail, running an invisible simulation to find imperfections in his form and correct them.
That battle had been a turning point. After his fight with Doris, Asher had shattered through his physical limits, his innate ability, Limitless Physical Growth, activating in full. The increase hadn’t been overwhelming or miraculous, but it was tangible, steady progress that couldn’t be denied.
He called forth his system interface.
[Name: Asher Wargrave
Age: Eighteen
Bloodline: The Wargrave Lineage
Physique: Absolute Physique
Titles: [Youngest Heir] [Tenth Sun] [Disgrace of the Wargrave] [Unique Body Holder] [The Star’s Heir] [Monster] [Most Loved Wargrave] (new!)
Life Rank: Blazestar
Sub-Life Rank: Dust
Affinity: Lightning, Star, Space, Gravity, Light
Strength: 197 → 213
Agility: 193 → 224
Vitality: 350 → 351
Perception: 230 → 232
Inventory: Platinum coins, assorted cuisine, liters of purified water, triangular wooden talisman.]
Asher stared at the floating blue panel before him, his expression calm but thoughtful. His strength had risen by sixteen points, and his agility by a remarkable thirty-one. His vitality and perception had improved only slightly, by one and two points respectively, but even that small progress was valuable. Strength wasn’t only measured in leaps; it was forged through consistency.
’It doesn’t follow a fixed pattern,’ he thought silently. ’Each breakthrough affects my stats differently. There’s no set increase, no predictable formula.’
He sighed softly, dismissing the matter. It wasn’t something he could control. If the system didn’t allow him to choose where his growth went, then worrying about it was pointless. His gaze drifted to the new line of the panel, the title that caught his attention: [Most Loved Wargrave].
The corners of his lips twitched. "Most loved?" he murmured under his breath. "What’s that even supposed to mean?"
He pondered the title in silence. It didn’t make sense to him. Sure, his father, his elder brother, and his sister cared deeply for him, but did that truly make him the most loved among the Wargrave bloodline? There were still siblings he hadn’t even met in person, and then there were the Great Elders and the many other members of the family who held weight within their vast lineage.
’Father and Big Brother Malrik came ready to destroy everything just to save me,’ he thought with a faint sigh. ’Is that why the system gave me this title?’
He leaned back, lost in reflection. The memory of Azeron’s wrath and Malrik’s overwhelming presence filled his mind, the power they unleashed upon the Separate Dimension for his sake. Even Thalric had intervened, diving headfirst into his own battle with Doris to take over in his stead. The realization left a strange warmth in his chest, mixed with a hint of frustration.
He was tired of being the weakest one in the family. Being the youngest meant being the least experienced, the least feared, and often, the most protected. But that would only be temporary. A faint smirk curved across his lips as he imagined surpassing Thalric one day, the look of disbelief that would surely spread across his brother’s face.
Asher’s focus shifted again. He raised his hand, and with a shimmer of light, a golden ring appeared in his palm. He stared at it for a long moment, his eyes narrowing in contemplation. It was the teleportation ring Cindralis had gifted him after he shattered the academy’s battle exam record, one that had previously belonged to his brother, Malrik.
He had trusted the ring once. It had proven useful during the apocalyptic battle four days ago, allowing him to teleport freely across the battlefield. With it, he could instantly reposition, appearing behind enemies, evading deadly attacks, or closing the distance for a killing strike, all without spending his own Astra energy. Bu, despite its usefulness, he no longer trusted it.
Cindralis had tried to force him into becoming her disciple... or rather, her obedient servant. The thought alone made his jaw tighten. Who was to say she hadn’t tampered with the ring? What if it contained a hidden skill, a binding rune, or a surveillance mark meant to monitor him? What if wearing it slowly manipulated his will, bending his thoughts until he became loyal to her without realizing it?
The more he thought about it, the more unease settled in his chest. Yes, the ring could be invaluable in battle, but its potential danger far outweighed its utility. It wasn’t paranoia, it was caution born from experience.
He considered the possibility that perhaps he was overthinking it, that maybe the teleportation ring was exactly what it appeared to be: a simple tool of convenience. But was he willing to take that risk? The answer was a resounding no.
He had learned long ago never to underestimate the elderly figures of Crymora. Behind their smiles and wisdom lay a cunning that could shatter empires. Cindralis was no exception. She had struck when the Wargraves were away, fully aware that none of his family’s titans were present to protect him. If not for the talisman Malrik had given him, Asher might have been forced to accept her proposition, or face death.
And who was to say she hadn’t foreseen even that? What if gifting him the teleportation ring was part of a larger scheme, a backup plan disguised as generosity? What if this ring was her failsafe all along?
Once again, Asher sighed. Perhaps he was being overly suspicious. Perhaps not. Either way, he wasn’t about to gamble his freedom. With a thought, the ring vanished from his palm, returning to the system’s inventory where it would remain sealed, untouched and unworn.
"I couldn’t even ask Big Brother Malrik if Cindralis ever gave him a gift for breaking the record," Asher muttered softly. "But whether she did or didn’t... it doesn’t change anything."
His eyes hardened slightly, reflecting the golden morning light. "This ring stays locked away."
And with that silent decision, Asher leaned back against the couch once more, the flicker of the system screen fading before him, leaving only the quiet hum of the morning air.
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AUTHOR’S NOTE: We are currently 21st on the Golden Ticket list. Let’s keep pushing!